


Kinktober 2020

by Dentss



Series: Dungeons & Dragons Canon [8]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gay, Gay Sex, Human Furniture, Knifeplay, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:40:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dentss/pseuds/Dentss
Summary: i do not care if its not october any more i can and will upload these and i will do what i want anyway enjoy the shameless smut
Series: Dungeons & Dragons Canon [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1401703
Kudos: 1





	1. Day 1: Knifeplay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [you know how it goes Alex](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=you+know+how+it+goes+Alex).



After entering their room, it takes Lucifer and Regus mere seconds to completely undress one another. Even Regus’ beautiful crystal crown is thrown to the floor, a reminder of how truly inferior he is in the bedroom, and he looks up with wide eyes at Lucifer as he’s backed against the bed.

“Luce-” Regus gasps, hands grabbing at the other’s chest. Lucifer’s lithe frame towers above him, forked tongue flickering between his lips, and his fingers come to touch Regus’ chest, drawing out gentle hums of approval.

“Birdy,” Lucifer returns lowly, leaning in to bare his fangs against the other’s neck.

Regus watches him with half-lidded eyes, then slowly backs himself up onto the bed, shuffling back until he is able to gather pillows to place beneath his head, lifting it so he has a perfect view of his lover. When he stops moving, his birdlike legs are spread and his wings are splayed out at his sides, curled at the tips, painting him akin to an angel in the colours of red and black. Lucifer can’t stop himself from hastily crawling between Regus’ legs, cupping his sex in one hand and caressing his body with the other.

“Don’t you look pretty presenting yourself for me?” Lucifer murmurs, dipping a finger inside of the other man. “You’re so eager…”

Regus reaches out to grab the other’s curly red hair, pulling at it. Lucifer understands immediately and brings the rest of his body up until his face is right over Regus’, a primal desire written all over both of them. They kiss with burning passion and Lucifer takes the opportunity to press two more fingers into his lover, who welcomes them with a husky moan. “Of course I am, after all that teasing you did. You really are-”

Without a moment of hesitation, Lucifer strikes like a snake, his hand wrapping around the other’s neck and immediately squeezing with silencing force. Regus makes a noise like a strangled tiger, rumbling in his throat but weak and with a dying growl. The other smirks victoriously, drawing his fangs across Regus’ collarbones before sinking his teeth in, pleased by the subsequent squirming. When he pulls back, there’s droplets of gold blood forming, and eventually they start to trail down Regus’ skin. “Tell me again what I really am, birdy? Can’t hear you.”

It’s obvious that Regus _wants_ to bite back some insult, but his arms are weak and his eyes are rolling back into his skull. Mercifully, Lucifer brings back his hand, smiling at the blackening marks shrouding even Regus’ deepest scars. The Emperor falls silent now apart from his low moans as he’s fingered, and Lucifer is filled with satisfaction. He loves being able to shut him up, being able to show who is truly boss. This is the Emperor at his fingertips. He flexes his fingers hard and watches how Regus’ thighs clench in reaction, satisfied that he can reduce him to _this._

Watching the blood, Lucifer can’t help but smile. It gets him thinking, and his thinking leads him to use a little magic. He retracts his fingers from within Regus and soon enough it’s filled with a particularly sleek blade, shimmering in the dull light. Regus sees his face mirrored just barely in it and feels vulnerable in the best kind of way, gulping back a small breath of surprise and a perfect sort of fear.

“What do you think would happen if I played around a little with this, birdy? You just looked so pretty with that bite mark…” Lucifer delicately presses the cold blade to Regus’ stomach, trailing down lightly until he reaches the start of his dick. Regus lets a huff slip from his lips, watching as the tiniest line of blood forms.

They stare at it for a moment, the blade dancing dangerously between Regus’ thighs, before Lucifer gets the brave and dastardly idea to lower it, using the metal to separate the man’s folds, smirking all the while as he watches how on edge Regus becomes.

“I could dice all of this,” Lucifer chuckles lightly, his spare hand coming to rub at the other’s dick slowly, “and watch it all bleed. But I have a muuuch better idea,” he looks Regus in his glimmering golden eyes as he pushes the tip of the silver weapon inside of him. It’s a testing movement but a precise one, and he can see that no damage has been caused. Not yet.

Regus’ face is a dark reddish-purple and he shows his approval by further spreading his legs, though his eyes are blown wide and his lip is bleeding from being bitten. Lucifer finds it all very pretty – the fear ignites something wonderfully dark within him.

He turns the blade so the flat side is facing upwards, and easily angles it into a sensitive spot inside of him. Lucifer knows Regus’ body so well that he doesn’t even need to feel around anymore. The Emperor fidgets with the bedsheets, flexing his fingers and curling his wingtips as pressure is taken away and reapplied, almost making the risk feel non-existent. But Lucifer knows, and he has much more in mind. When Regus is used to the feeling, he turns the blade again and pushes it right up and into his flesh with force. Within moments there’s blood coming from within him and he lets out a vulturine shriek of agony, clawing at the bedsheets until they rip and then clawing into the plush material beneath them. The blade sees its way out the other side, shining with golden blood in front of Regus’ stomach, having made its way all the way through to the outside from where it was. Lucifer’s pleasure is clear in the feral expression on his face.

Laboured breathing fills the air with noise and Regus stays deathly still, because movement will surely only open the wound further, but he doesn’t tell Lucifer to stop. Instead, he stares into his eyes and quietly whispers, “What now?”

“So _eager,_ what do you want birdie? You’re being so good,” Lucifer purrs. He hasn’t stopped rubbing Regus’ dick the whole time, and he rewardingly picks up the pace, drawing soft gasps from the other man.

“Fuck me, and make sure these sheets are covered in my blood,” Regus demands, voice beautifully strained. Lucifer simply cannot resist, and he withdraws the knife swiftly, pulling another cry from the other’s lips as the pain flares. He replaces the knife with his dick, enjoying the feeling of it slipping in against the blood and the open wound. He watches the wound open as Regus’ tiny body stretches for Lucifer, and he smirks cruelly, not allowing any time for Regus to adjust to it. He starts rough, removing his hand from the other’s dick to hold him down by his chest when he begins to squirm and cry.

His deep voice is hoarse as he pants and cries out in pain and pleasure, and Lucifer starts to growl alongside him, turned on by all of his noises and satisfied by the grip of Regus around his dick. The other’s body is being rocked hard into the bed, and if not for the numerous pillows he’d be pressed up against the headboard.

Eager to hold up on the latter part of Regus’ desires, Lucifer teases his stomach with the blade, applying enough pressure to hurt but not enough to break the scarred skin, until he reaches the very middle of his body. He doesn’t push it in so slowly this time, no – he lifts the blade and then plunges it downwards with such speed that it carries the blade through Regus’ body and onto the sheets below them, and then back out so the wound is open and gushing. The cry Regus releases is pure _perfection –_ it’s so loud and full of agony, so _genuine._

Lucifer looks up at Regus’ face, slowing his hips for just a moment, and when he receives a nod he picks up his pace, hips slamming into Regus’ body. The Emperor looks like he’s about to burst, his hands wrapped around the arm holding him down and clawing at it as his shoulders struggle for movement. He keeps his lower half still, knowing that if he shifts the angle it could continue to tear the wound, though his legs are shaking and his moans are louder than ever before. Lucifer thinks he looks _stunning_ like that, and wonders why he hadn’t done this sooner.

Regus’ eyes are closed when Lucifer leans over him. He puts down the knife and slowly lifts the other hand to pin Regus’ wrists above his head. He kisses the man beneath him with hunger and aggression, teeth grazing the other’s lower lip and tongue as he reciprocates it. Regus moans into Lucifer’s mouth, pressed too far and hard into the bed to dominate the kiss but still trying. Lucifer’s free hand closes around the other’s throat, cutting off his moans, turning them into choked noises as his breath escapes him. His eyes flicker open for just a moment, but they’re half-lidded and hazy.

Lucifer pulls away and leans into Regus’ ear, groaning in his own pleasure. “You’re so good for me, Regus. You let me cover your precious sheets in your blood and still fuck you, even though you’re in so much pain. And you sound so _pretty_ too – when you cry out for me it drives me fucking crazy.”

Regus can barely gasp, his hands opening and closing as he struggles. He lets out a hoarse, “Please…”

“Please what, birdie?” Lucifer chuckles, tightening his hand. The other’s eyes are struggling not to roll back into his skull from the pleasure, pain, and lack of oxygen. “Why don’t you tell me? Cat got your tongue?”

He opens his mouth and nothing but a strangled wheeze comes out. Having had his fun, Lucifer released his throat with a cackle and kissed the dark bruises forming there, enjoying the loud gulps of air his lover takes in next. When he’s done regaining his stolen breath, he lets out a dry laugh. “Lucifer… that’s not fair.”

“You know I don’t play fair,” he grins, running his fingernails down Regus’ body, circling the wound in his middle. Regus’ gift of regeneration has already started working at it, starting to fix it. He doesn’t interrupt the process, but he does wipe up a little blood and lifts it to his lips, tasting it.

It burns at first, but then the taste of slightly sulphuric exotic fruits spreads through his mouth and he groans in satisfaction, cleaning his fingers before pressing them to Regus’ dick, rubbing vigorously. The smaller man cries out again, this time more out of pleasure, and he lifts his long legs to wrap around Lucifer as tight as he can as his hips jerk. His entire body shakes and he rolls his hips hard back against the other until he can’t anymore, too blissed out to move. Lucifer, as per usual, follows soon after, pushing himself in as far as he can, releasing. Regus’ moans slow down and his legs fall loose at Lucifer’s sides, though he continues to very slowly roll his hips for a while, all until his energy dies and Lucifer starts to go soft inside of him.

When they separate, they’re both still drawing in deep breaths, but Lucifer is in a far better state than the other. He very carefully scoops up Regus, whispering appreciation and love and hushing him when the pain flares, and takes him to their private bathroom (only really used after sex) to wash up and treat the wounds, though they’ll heal soon. All the while Regus clings to him, and Lucifer makes sure to hold him tight, filled with pride.


	2. Day 2: Human Furniture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no nsfw in this one

Andre returns home with quite a lot of tension. Velvet sees it immediately, and within moments he’s standing in front of the other, worry spreading through his body.

Velvet knows his boyfriend would never hurt him, so he’s not afraid when he sees the other’s hands balled into fists so tight his palms are red, but he is worried sick. He looks over Andre’s body, panicking a little when he sees a huge patch of blood. “Are you hurt?”

“He got away,” the other responds blankly, only his palms betraying the calm attitude he presents himself with. “Rude creature – he deserved his fate more than anyone else.”

“How did that happen?” Velvet asks, shocked. He _never_ let his prey slip away, even when he had a bad day – he’s been doing this for far too long to let that happen. The circumstances must have been different this time.

“A hidden door – one so hidden even my eyes couldn’t pick it up,” Andre answers dully, continuing his path forwards and removing his coat. He folds it over the back of his chair at the dinner table, then heads straight into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of white wine. He’s been keeping a group of wine bottles hidden away for as long as Velvet can remember, only ever going in to check on the state of the bottles and the cabinet itself. Gods forbid he ever found a spider living in there.

Velvet knows there’s nothing he can say to comfort Andre about it, and he also knows the therapist would much prefer his silence over false positivity, so he stays silent and follows him into the living room. Andre gets the fireplace started, then sits down cross-legged on his couch, pouring himself a glass of wine and taking a deep breath.

He begins to drink with his eyes closed, and Velvet can’t resist going to get closer. He lays across Andre’s lap, looking up at the flawless blonde with wide eyes, trying to look as pretty as possible for him. When he does speak, it’s in a quiet voice, innocent and submissive, “Andre, can I try your wine?”

“If you’ll do me a favour, my sweet,” Andre responds calmly. He takes a deep breath and it’s clear, though, that he’s far from calm. His hands are twitching ever so slightly, something Velvet is sure _nobody_ has seen other than him. Velvet nods obediently, and is allowed a lengthy sip of the wine, which tastes absolutely _delicious._

“Thank you, Andre. It’s really nice,” he purrs, spreading himself out like a cat. “What do you want me to do?”

Andre hums, running his fingers gently through Velvet’s hair. “I have a beautiful idea for you, something that would ease my nerves. How would you like to be a decoration, my gorgeous Velvet?”

“I’d love that,” he says quickly, grasping at Andre’s bloodstained shirt, “what do you want? I’ll do anything to help, Andre.”

A small smile forming on his lips, Andre cups the other’s face with such a tender touch that he’s sure he could melt. “Stand – I will show you.”

Velvet does it without hesitation, standing expectantly in front of Andre, who sets his wine glass on the table to the side of the couch and stands alongside him. He delicately runs his fingers over Velvet’s throat, then his palms along his arms. He very gently and lovingly positions Velvet’s limbs in a position akin to a beautiful dancer, or a model for a painter, and when he is done he stands and admires his work.

“You look _stunning,”_ Andre hums, “would you be able to hold yourself like that until I finish with this wine?”

“Yes!” Velvet hurriedly nods, eager to please and admittedly more comfortable than he expected. The other always seemed to be ready to prove his knowledge of anatomy – knowing exactly what works and what doesn’t, what hurts and what feels good.

“What a wonderful thing you are,” the man says gently, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Velvet’s cheek, careful not to move him from his position.

Andre sits back down, letting out a gentle sigh and swirling his wine. His eyes don’t once leave Velvet, even when he lifts his glass to his lips to drink.

Velvet feels gorgeous under the other’s gaze. There’s not a glimpse of anything but adoration in his eyes – it’s clear he treasures him above all else. It makes Velvet _ache,_ but he knows his aching will be dealt with soon, with all the physical affection in the world.

Andre’s eyes wander, and he takes his sweet time drinking. Velvet is certain he’s being undressed by the other’s eyes, and he is completely fine with that, though it fills him with a certain kind of warmth he tries very hard to ignore. He has to stay perfect for Andre.

But when he finishes his wine, it’s not over. Andre stands, setting down his glass, and with careful hands he removes Velvet’s shirt, ever so careful not to move him from his place, as though taking clothes from a mannequin but with far more care. When he’s undressed, Andre’s hands are upon him in an instant, feeling his bare skin and tracing every small detail, following the divides between the white patches on his perfect dark purple canvas. Velvet lets out a very gentle whine, relaxing into the soothing feeling of being caressed. Andre ends up with Velvet’s face in his hands, turning it to face him and staring into his dark eyes with a desire so deep that nobody could split them apart.

“You may relax, my beautiful piece of art. I treasure you – just looking at you is enough to ease even the most irritated of nerves,” Andre whispers, and without any further encouragement Velvet leans in.

When they kiss, it’s with passion – and they stagger backwards onto the couch. Andre pulls him down with him, and Velvet sits on his lap, arms around his shoulders. They press so tightly against one another that not even the Gods could part them, Andre pulling at him gently, drawing his fingers over every single intricacy of his body. Velvet breathes in the gorgeous scent of roses mingling with the vicious tang of blood, and in that moment he wouldn’t change it, not for any God nor person nor opportunity in all of time.


End file.
